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“You labour under a mistake, Ellen. I have no such intention.”

“If I wish for one, I am sure you will gratify me.” Mrs. Tompkins spoke softly and smiled.

“No–not even to gratify you, Ellen.” Mr. Tompkins spoke seriously, and his brow contracted.

“You built this beautiful house to gratify me.”

“True–and by doing so have set myself half crazy.”

“Mr. Tompkins, I don’t understand you. You are in a strange mood this evening.”

“And so would you be in a strange mood, if you had suffered as much as I have during the day.”

“Suffered! What have you suffered about?”

“Because I built this house.”

“You speak in riddles. Why do you not explain yourself?” Mrs. Tompkins’s voice trembled, and there were tears in her eyes.

“I will explain myself, Ellen,” said her husband, his manner becoming serious and earnest: it had been fretful and captious before. “I was weak enough to yield to your urgent desire to have an elegant mansion, as you called it, and build this house, at a very heavy cost. I knew that I was doing wrong at the time, and that both you and I would live to regret the act of folly. But you held the reins, and I suffered myself to be driven. The consequence is, that I am involved in difficulties, and this house has to be sold within ten days.”

Mr. Tompkins paused. He wished to see the effect of what he had said. Had an earthquake shaken the house to its foundation, Mrs. Tompkins could not have been more astonished than she was by this speech. Her face became deadly pale; she trembled violently from head to foot, and panted like a frightened hare. To utter a word in reply was impossible. The husband was startled at the effect produced, but did not waver an instant in his purpose. The suddenness of the annunciation had one good effect: it opened the eyes of Mrs. Tompkins completely. The manner of her husband left no doubt upon her mind that all he had said was true–that the house would have to go, spite of all he could do to save it. He might be to blame for getting into difficulties–might have mismanaged his business–but that could not alter the present position of things. On recovering from the shock occasioned by so astounding a declaration, she did not resort to any of her old tricks to manage her husband. She felt that they would be useless. As soon as she could speak, she said, firmly–

“Is all this true?”

“As true as you live and breathe.”

“And it is my fault?”

“I am sorry that I cannot say otherwise.” There was a good deal of feeling in the husband’s tone as he made this reply. “I need not relate how I strove to convince you that I could not afford to build such a house–that to sell my warehouse property, in order to do so, would be to rob myself of at least seven or eight thousand dollars–for that property would inevitably increase in value this amount in the next five years. Already it has been sold at an advance of three thousand dollars on what I received for it. I need not relate how unhappy you made both yourself and me, until I consented to do as you wished. It is all within your remembrance. A man cannot stand every thing. I had trouble enough, even then, with my business–but found no compensation at home. In a desperate mood, I resolved to make home pleasant, if possible. I made the sacrifice, and here is the result!”

Mrs. Tompkins wept bitterly when her husband ceased speaking. Every word went to her heart. She saw her folly, nay, her crime, in having acted as she had done. She was a weak, vain woman, but not all perverted. Notwithstanding rank weeds had long overgrown the garden of her mind, some plants of goodly promise yet remained.

On the next day, without hesitating a moment, Mr. Tompkins went to a real-estate broker, and employed him to sell his house as quickly as possible. He mentioned this to his wife, as a thing of course, and suggested the necessity of disposing of their splendid furniture, and retiring from their too prominent position in the social world.